


There Has To Be a First Time

by clgfanfic



Category: Alias Smith and Jones
Genre: F/M, Het
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:35:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heyes spends some time with a lady.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Has To Be a First Time

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Devil's Hole #5 under the pen name Caryn Mayo.

          Seeing her again was like stepping into a dream while he was wide awake.  Hannibal Heyes shook his head slightly, unsure if his eyes were playing tricks.  But no, she was still there.

          He smiled, still standing in the corner of the mercantile, the book he'd been looking at forgotten in his hand.  It had been fifteen years, but she hadn't changed hardly at all.  Her hair was still a thick tangle of reds, gold and light brown, and she wore it piled on her head, some escaping to framed her heart-shaped face.  Heyes sighed softly.  Her face was still the same as well, beautiful being the only word he could find to describe her, especially her eyes, which were like enormous pale blue pansies.

          She hadn't seen him, and he wasn't even sure she'd remember him if she did.  Fifteen years had passed since the least time they'd met…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

          The trail boss slapped Heyes on the back, laughing loudly.  Mr. Coopersmith and several of the other trail hands from the cattle drive were obviously amused by the expressions on his and Jed's face.  Not that Heyes blamed him, but neither he nor his cousin had ever been invited to join a group of travel-weary men on their way to a bordello.

          At eighteen, Hannibal Heyes was still a virgin, although not by choice.  He'd simply never had enough money to buy himself a whore.  But he and Jed had just finished a long drive, arriving a full week ahead of schedule, and they had money a plenty in their pockets to do whatever they wanted.

          Han glanced at his cousin, then grinned at Jed's blush-colored cheeks.  He was only sixteen.

          "Well, I'd say from the looks on your faces that you boys aren't well acquainted with a cat house," Mr. Coopersmith said, a little too loud for Heyes' taste.

          "Well, sir," Han replied smoothly, "there has to be a first time."

          "That there does, son!" the trail boss roared, he and the men laughing again.

          The two teens were swept along with the other hands, parading down the street to a large wooden house at the edge of town.  A large sign hung from a second-story balcony.  "Welcome to Charlotte's!" it proclaimed in curly red letters.

          The two teens exchanged half-excited, half-terrified glanced just before they were shoved through the door and into a parlor fancier than any they'd ever seen.

          They stood, shifting anxiously from foot to foot, their peckers already getting hard at the thought of what was coming.

          A woman dressed in less than a saloon girl might wear swept into the room, with a loud, "Welcome, boys!"

          Han and Jed both stared at the woman, who had the largest tits they'd ever seen, and they could see them, every inch of them, clear as day through the thin material she wore.  Long blonde hair fell in living waves to her hips, which swayed like nothing they'd ever seen before either.

          She smiled as the men all yanked their hats off, mumbling or whispering, "Howdy, ma'am."

          Coopersmith stepped forward, pulling the voluptuous woman into his arms and giving her a long, passionate kiss.  The other hands cheered spiritedly.

          When he let her come up for air, she whooped, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his face into her ample cleavage, then shaking her breasts.  The men cheered again and Coopersmith pulled back, laughing and gasping for air.

          "Charlotte, I've brought you a parcel of horny men, I hope you're up for it!"

          She laughed wickedly, letting him go.  She walked over to the drivers, her hands on her hips as she looked them all over, one by one.  When she reached Han and Jed she stopped, glancing back over her shoulder, "Looks like you brought me a couple of babes as well!"

          Coopersmith grinned.  "They'll be men tomorrow morning!"

          Charlotte tossed her head back and laughed, then she reached out and ran her fingers through Jed's curly blond locks.  "Sweet as sugar candy," she purred.

          Jed's cheeks and ears turned deep red and he ducked his head, making her laugh again.

          She moved around Han, her hands gliding over his shoulders.  "My, my, my, but you're Cupid come to earth!"

          The men laughed and Heyes shot some of them a belligerent scowl.

          She slipped her arms through one of Han's and one of Jed's, leading them forward with her.  "Well, what are y'waitin' for, boys, let's go!"

          She guided the cousins into another room where lots of young women waited.  They were dressed in a range of clothing, all of it revealing.

          Heyes thought for a moment he'd died and gone to heaven.  Angels couldn't be any prettier than the ladies he was staring at.  Charlotte made sure each of the drovers were matched up with one of the girls, then turned her attention to the teens.

          She studied Jed for a moment, then nodded to a young woman, who came over to join them.  She was small and petite, with long pale-blonde hair and large green eyes.  Freckles were scattered over her nose, which turned up just slightly.

"Brenna, darlin', I want you to show this babe what it is to be a man."

"Be my pleasure," Brenna said, sidling up to Jed and slipping her arm through his.  "Come with me, handsome."

Jed glanced back at Heyes once, a silly grin on his face, then he was led upstairs.

Heyes swallowed hard.  Was Charlotte keeping him for herself?  Not that he'd mind, but some of the other girls were closer to his own age, and he had a feeling Mr. Coopersmith might not like it.

Charlotte turned to Heyes, reaching out to caress his face.  "I know," she said, then called, "Genevieve!"

A girl stepped out and Heyes felt his heart take an unexpected lurch.  She was unlike no woman he'd ever seen.  Her long, ruffled skirt was a pale, icy blue, the material just thick enough to hide her body from his gaze.  Long chestnut colored hair that framed her face in a profusion of untamed, golden-highlighted curls was almost as long as Charlotte's.  Her incredibly blue eyes met his gaze as he fiddled nervously with his hat.

He drew a deep breath and forced himself to swallow so he could speak.  Her off-the shoulder blouse revealed an extraordinary amount of creamy flesh.

"Hello, I'm Genevieve," she said, her lightly accented voice lower and more sensuous than he'd expected.

"Heyes," he nearly squeaked.  "Hannibal Heyes."

She smiled, like a blessing from an angel, and took him from Charlotte, who moved immediately to Coopersmith's side.  "Well, Hannibal Heyes, why don't you come with me?"

He nodded, allowing her to guide him to her room.

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

"Would you like some lemonade?" Genevieve asked.

The corners of Heyes' mouth tilted up as she walked to a small table and poured him a glass.  He couldn't recall anyone ever offering him lemonade, not since his mother had died.  She handed him a tall glass, and he tried a swallow.  The sweet-tart drink was perfect after the hot trek from the bathhouse to the bordello.

She gestured for him to sit, and he took a seat on one of the high-back chairs, tilted it on two legs and surveyed the room.  It was decorated in whites and blues and had a cheerful, homey feel to it.  She sat down across from him and sipped on her lemonade.

"Where are you from?" she asked.

"Kansas," Han replied immediately, his cheeks blushing as his gaze drifted down over her slender neck and bare shoulders before halting at the swell of her breasts.  He looked up quickly.  "But my cousin and I have been movin' around a lot."

She smiled politely and nodded.  There was a slight sadness that clung to the young woman, and Heyes felt a sudden desire to chase it away.

"Where do you come from?" he asked her.

"I was born in France, but my family came here, to Saint Louis, when I was very young."

Heyes nodded, wondering how she'd ever ended up in a brothel.  She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.  Surely someone would have wanted to marry her.  A flicker of desire flared to life in his chest, followed by a matching tremor of excitement in his groin that was so intense it startled him.

"How did you–?" he stopped, knowing it was none of his business.

She smiled understandingly.  "My mother died when I was small, then papa.  I had many mouths to feed, my brothers and sisters.  There was nothing for a girl to do…  Nothing but this."

"And you send them money?" he asked her.

She nodded.

Almost hesitantly he reached toward her, and just before his fingers could touch her cheek, she stood, moving neatly away from him.

"Come here," she instructed, moving closer to the large brass bed in the room.  She tossed back the colorful quilt, the action making her blush and she turned away, avoiding his speculative gaze.  "You must think I am a very bad person," she said softly.

"No.  No, I don't," he said, crossing to her.

She held out her hand and Heyes took it.  She leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss across his lips.  He moaned softly, his lips capturing her again, this time more hungrily.

Only their mouths touched, but it was enough to make Heyes' knees shake.  When he started seeing an entire kaleidoscope of colors, he pulled back, saying, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

"Didn't you enjoy it?" she asked.

"Yes, of course I did, but–"

"Han," she interrupted.  "I am yours tonight, you may do whatever you want."

Heyes' breath caught and he swallowed again to free his voice.  How could his body yearn with such heated longing for someone he didn't know?  For the first time in his life, his impulsive nature and his silver tongue failed him.

She smiled sweetly, seeming to read his thoughts.  Her eyes locked with his and she moved into his embrace, sighing softly.

Heyes closed his eyes, giving himself up to the wondrous sensation of feeling Genevieve's heart beating next to his.  Holding her, he knew the magical spell of passion for the first time.  He bent his head and kissed her, quickly finding himself exploring her mouth.

With innocent abandon she sighed and yielded to his embrace, like a child curling sleepily into the arms of a parent.  But she was all woman in his arms, her body quivering under his untutored touch as his hands roved over her warm shoulders, curving spine, rounded buttocks and firm thighs.  He felt the heat rising through her, matching his, blending with it until an urgent white-hot fire raged between them.

The thrill of pleasing her was like no other emotion he'd ever experienced and he quickly learned how and where to touch her.

Her hands were questing over his body, removing his vest and shirt.  He felt his muscles tense with the waiting, but he was determined to wait, to give and receive pleasure as slowly as he could, making the magical moment last as long as possible.

Her delicate hands kneaded, teased, tempted him.  He groaned aloud as her hand skimmed across the front of his pants.

"No," he pleaded.  "Not yet."

"I want you to love me, Hannibal," she whispered.  "I want to feel you inside of me.  I've never wanted to do this before."

A thrill of pleasure soared through Heyes, then turned to doubt.  What if he couldn't please her?  He didn't know what to do.

She shifted his hand and placed it over her breast.  He could feel the nipple harden.  She gazed up at him, a mute appeal in her eyes.

"Please," she whispered.  "Please?"

Heyes buried his face in her hair.  His body shuddered.  "I've never done this before," he admitted.

"I'll help you," she promised.

He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the side of the bed.  At first he thought he'd lay her on the bed, but he set her back on her feet instead.  She started to take off her blouse, but he stilled her hands.

"No," he said softly.  "I want to do it."

Heyes saw the heated look of desire in her eyes and trembled.  His flesh burned where her fingers grazed it as he undid the buttons.  He lifted her blouse over her head.  His kisses fluttered across her shoulders, which were the softest thing he'd ever felt.

She cupped herself, offering herself to him.  "Kiss me," she instructed.

He caressed her first, trembling at the way her breasts filled his hands, creating an aching tautness in his groin.

He dipped his head and kissed one hard nipple, then the other.  Waves of pleasure reached in and down, spiraling through him to his secret center of excitement.

He suckled her as he slowly pulled her skirt over her hips, letting it slide to the floor.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured softly, as his fingers skimmed over her flesh, along the silken curve of her waist, over narrow hips and long her thighs, drawn inevitably toward that trembling warmth between her legs.  When his palm cupped her, Genevieve gasped with delight.

"Yes," she said.  "Come, I will teach you."

He placed her gently on the bed.  He had no idea what it would feel like, no idea that making love could create this breathless flutter of anticipation that was building into a thrill of tension that threatened to overtake him and send his senses reeling.

He slipped the rest of his clothes off, and heard her breath catch with her first sight of him fully aroused for her.  She held out her arms to him and he went to her.

When flesh met flesh, Genevieve's body responded with an urgency and eagerness that was reflected in Heyes' eyes.  She told him what to do, and he followed her instructions, his hands moved over her, taunting her.  Her body twisted and turned, alive with yearning.

He wanted to know it all, to feel the ultimate union two people could share.

"Now, Hannibal," she said, spreading her legs for him.

Heyes knelt over her, poised, his eyes gazing down with affection and desire.  Instinctively, Genevieve's hips lifted to meet him, and the first touch of that moistness lured him inside of her with a slow, steady thrust that hesitated only once when she gave a tiny cry of pleasure.

He paused.

"No, please," she said urgently, her hands on his hips drawing him to her, refusing to allow the retreat.

He leaned into her, filling her as new waves of excitement surged through him.  Without her telling him, he began to move, driving into her slowly at first, then with increasing speed as his passion built to an incredible peak, luring him to a place of awesome beauty and unimagined adventures.

Suddenly he realized it was Genevieve's voice he heard, calling out his name as her body shuddered in an extraordinary moment of released passion, taking him with her on the most thrilling journey of his young life…

 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

 

Heyes shook his head, feeling his erection throb.  He had stayed with her all night, leaning secrets he never knew existed.  He'd always appreciated what she'd shared with him, how she'd made his first time wonderful, special.

And there she was again.

He took the book and walked to the counter where she stood.

She glanced at him briefly, then looked away.  A moment later she looked back at him, her eyes rounding with surprise and what looked to Heyes like fear.

"Ma'am," he greeted, tipping his hat.

She gaze held his for a moment.  "Sir," she greeted.

"Ah, Mrs. Davenport, that cloth you ordered came in yesterday," the older man behind the counter said as he emerged from the back room.

"Thank you, Mr. Brush," she replied, glancing briefly at Heyes to see if he'd heard.

He nodded slightly, waiting until she paid for her purchases before handing the clerk the book and paying for it.  He stepped outside and found her waiting for him one shop down.  He joined her, smiling.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Davenport, is it?  I'm Joshua Smith," he said, his eyes dancing with pleasure.  "I believe we might have met?"

She held his gaze, enjoying the game.  "Yes," she replied, "yes, I believe it was in Saint Louis."

"I do believe you're right," Heyes replied, pleased that her accent hadn't faded.

"Yes, my Aunt Charlotte's, wasn't it?"

"Yes, you're absolutely right," Heyes said and grinned.

"Has business brought you to Denver?" she asked.

"No," he replied.  "I'm retired, actually."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"Ah, well, that's wonderful," she replied, looking down and sadly shaking her head.  "But I have sad news; poor Aunt Charlotte, she died not long after you met her.  I was left on my own and used my inheritance to move to Colorado.  I taught school for a time, then met my husband."

"I see," Heyes said.  "Well, I hope you're both very happy."

She looked up, meeting his gaze.  "Oh, yes, H– Joshua, we are very happy.  And I have two children, little girls."

He smiled down at her.  "That's wonderful."

She dipped her head.  "I'm afraid I cannot tarry long.  Nathaniel took the girls to pick out a candy.  He'll be waiting for me."

Heyes nodded.  "Well, I won't keep you then.  But it was a pleasure to see you again."

She smiled gratefully.  "Yes, it was a pleasure to see you again as well."

"I still recall that evening at your aunt's quite fondly."

"As do I," she replied.  "But now I really must go."

Heyes tipped his hat and watched her go, sighing softly.  She had made a new life for herself, a normal life.  It was the very least she deserved.

With another sigh he turned and headed back to the hotel where the Kid waited for him.  With luck, he and the Kid might get a second chance at a normal life as well, if the governor had finally come through for them.  The telegraph they were waiting for would tell.

He smiled as he crossed the street.

The End


End file.
